The Silent Force
by voyagemaiden
Summary: Post DH. After the final battle Harry Potter had changed. The world was losing him and nothing could stop it except a forbidden love and darker dangers than before. HP/DM
1. Stand My Ground

The Silent Force

Warnings: This story will contain slight insanity, thoughts of suicide, and violence. There will be darker themes spread throughout and some language issues. Also, this is slash so you can expect mature scenes.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own anything related to the Harry Potter world. Only in my dreams.

Author's Notes: The title of the story is from an album by Within Temptation, so I take no credit. Also, the chapter titles will be names of songs, in case you're interested. The links are in my profile.

The story begins a few weeks after Deathly Hallows, excluding the epilogue. Funerals have been held and bodies have been buried, but that's about all that's been done.

Hope you enjoy!

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Chapter 1 – Stand My Ground

It was raining in the cemetery where Harry stood. He embraced the mind-numbing cold and the blurriness of the land around him. He did not shiver, for he barely felt anything at all.

Ever since the death of Voldemort some unforeseen force had been changing him, slowly. Harry knew he should have felt scared, but he could not find it in himself to _feel_, anything.

Harry knelt down on the graves of his parents and began tracing the words imbedded in the stones. Rain dripped from his hair, traveling down his face like tears, but beneath the damp his face was dry. He had shed no tears for the dead. He had not grieved. And he felt no guilt. But he did feel alone, so very alone.

Despite the fact that he was currently isolating every tie he had to the wizarding world, no one seemed to care. No one had said, "Harry, stop torturing yourself. Come back to us, you're our best mate, you're part of our family."

No, after the war everyone had moved on with their lives. Families were closer than ever before. Apparently they had realized that they didn't get a second chance. That, within a moment, or a blink of time, family members could be lost to them forever and never return.

Harry laid down on the graves of his parents and stared up into the falling rain. He thought of Sirius, of Remus, of those who had once loved him like a son, of those who had died so that he could _live_.

Those who had given their life for him would never understand. How could he live on with all those holes in his heart? In the past he had felt too deeply. He had given himself emotional ties to those now gone, and with each death he had felt a part of himself dying as well.

The world changed everyday. New families were created and old families were broken. He knew this, but he also knew that his family was dead. He was the only one left in a world full of shadows and light. The light, shining so brightly for many now, never shined on him. He knew he was drowning in despair.

Curling on his side, Harry buried his face in the wilting grass. He knew he should have died that night in the forest, when Voldemort's killing curse hit its mark. If he had died he wouldn't have been an orphan anymore. He would have been with those who loved him.

But he had a duty, he had his fame. Harry knew he could not turn his back on those who needed his help. He was not selfish, but wished with his entire being that he was. Too many depended on him. Too many saw him as a hero, a _god_.

But beneath the calm exterior Harry knew he was still a child. He had never been given the chance to truly mature, and yet he was expected to act like a martyr. He didn't want to do it anymore. He wanted a life of his own.

Slowly, as time crept by in that graveyard, the earth began to hum with a new spirit. Flowers began to bloom. The deadly chill that had been present since the final battle lifted as the sunlight's warmth filtered through the murky air.

Its light landed on a sleeping figure lying silently on the ground. In this moment of time, the wizarding world began to lose the boy-who-lived. Even Harry Potter began losing himself.

And the living weren't there to pull him back, to attach the strings that had frayed during the war in order to make him whole once more.

The only onlookers were the ghosts of his family. They watched him with grief in their eyes, yet if one looked closely enough they could say they also saw hope.

A young man with blond hair and silver eyes sat nobly under a tree near his manor. He did not slouch, for that was what purebloods were taught at a very young age. His face was calm, a mask he prided himself on. He was still proud to call himself a Malfoy, even though he knew his surname was scarred beyond repair during the war.

The Malfoy's were shunned by society and called traitors by all. They were openly taunted and hated. The Dark now called them Gray, while the Light declared them to be Dark.

It was an endless cycle of cruel remarks, a hurricane of chaos, and Draco wanted it to end! Did no one think his family suffered enough as it was? He knew his father felt tremendous guilt at what he had done, at what he had to do in the presence of the Dark Lord. And his mother, his poor mother, felt grief for not expressing her thoughts. Draco knew she was ashamed that she could not protect her only son.

He looked down at the knife in his hand and watched as its blade caught the light. It looked alive as the silver turned to fire and the dull became life. It was beautiful to him. There were two snakes entwined within one another, both forming the hilt. One snake had silver eyes while the other had emerald. It was the perfect Slytherin weapon.

Bitterly, Draco's thoughts turned to Potter. His family's situation was entirely his fault! In fact, Draco's feelings of self-consciousness and doubt had stemmed from the very moment Potter had refused his hand in friendship back in first year. He was a bloody bad omen! Saint Potter and his heroic ways! He could do no wrong in the eyes of the wizarding world.

Draco hated the thought that Potter had saved his life, several times in fact. With the way his life was turning out to be, he would have been better off dead. Death would have meant no more struggles against an unfair world. Death would give him his freedom to do as he pleased with no judgment.

Draco briefly wondered what life would have been like if the Dark Lord had won the war. Probably worse, he finally concluded. The world would have been covered in darkness and death. Countless numbers of witches and wizards would have felt the pain he was suffering through now. And no matter how cold-hearted Draco was, he could not find it within himself to wish this fate on anyone else, not even Potter.

Before he knew it, Draco found tears streaked across his face. And Malfoy's did not cry! Merlin, what was wrong with him. He was falling apart, rapidly.

He closed his eyes and leaned back against the tree, slouching for the first time in his life. And he thought about _everything_.

His peers called him a coward while his father seemed ashamed. Even his mother would burst into tears every time she saw him because of her own failure. Of course, outside of their manor they still acted the part with their heads held high, but Draco saw into their hearts. And his own heart ached to give them the peace they deserved, a peace he could not offer.

He sat up straight again, his normally stoic eyes blazing. Maybe they would be better off without him. After all, he seemed to fail at everything he tried to do. No matter how hard he tried he had never made his family proud. It seemed as if he was always destined to fail.

So why stick around so he could make things worse? He should have died so many times before. It was finally time for him to leave, for good.

His mask had faded completely. If another had been there they could have claimed that madness took a hold of the blond. There was no ounce of sanity left in his eyes as he slashed his arm with the knife.

Draco laughed until his world became black.

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Let me know what you thought!


	2. See Who I Am

Chapter 2 – See Who I Am

It was nighttime when Harry finally opened his eyes. He shifted on the hallow ground, sensing a change in the air. And he felt…different. There was a weightlessness about him that he had never sensed before. He felt free.

Harry sat up grinning, his mind clear. He didn't know how, or when, but somehow during his stay in the cemetery he had discovered himself. His true self.

He saw his inner nature and his desires. Standing upon the graves of his parents he realized he could finally let his past go and live the way he wanted to, with no attachments.

He walked through the bronze gates as if in a trance. No one would ever tell him what to do again, he was done with that. The innocent boy who tried his hardest to find love and make others happy was gone now, replaced with a colder reality, the truth.

Staring up into the heavens above, Harry laughed long and hard. He had never felt so _alive_, so confident. From this moment forward he would do what he wanted on his own terms. From this night on his life would finally begin.

With a barely noticeable _pop_ he disapparated from the graveyard, leaving the dead to their peace once more.

***

"Harry, Harry, _Harry_! Where were you? Do you know it's the middle of the night?" Hermione's voice screeched, causing Harry to wince at its volume.

The others were gathered in the living room of the Burrow, all in their bathrobes. They were discussing the tasks needed to be done after the war. They varied from rebuilding Hogwarts to imprisoning remaining death eaters.

Harry could have cared less about such triviality. He brushed past Hermione as if she was nothing but a ghost to his eyes.

"Harry!" she said incredulously. He stopped and turned, watching her flinch at his cold look.

"I'm sorry Hermione," he said, his voice void of any emotion. The others perked up considerably when they noticed his change of tone. He continued speaking.

"Where I was is no concern of yours."

She looked as if she had been slapped. Ron stood slowly and went to Hermione's side.

"What's wrong mate?" he said, his voice unsure. "We were just worried about you."

Harry stood straight, staring into the eyes of his best friends. He tried to feel guilt at how he was treating them. After all, they had for the most part stuck by him throughout the war.

But then he thought of Ron's constant betrayals. Ron had left Harry's side several times when his need for him was at its greatest. And Hermione loved Ron. When Ron had left during their camping session she had not been the same Hermione he knew her to be. Hermione had only one thought on her mind: Ron.

As always Harry was an outcast, a third member in a group of two. And truth be told, he didn't need them anymore. He was on his own. He had been on his own since the tender age of one when he had lost both his parents and his innocence.

Unable to answer them, he turned to the stairs. A hand caught around his arm however and he swung around, his eyes glowing fiercely.

"Get _off_ me!" he shouted, his words coming out harsher than he intended.

At this point Luna and Mr. Weasley had stood up as well. Mr. Weasley was eyeing him with a frown of disproval and concern, while Luna merely looked curious.

The ever-quiet Mr. Weasley made himself heard. "Are you alright Harry?"

Harry deflated at his tone. For the life of him he could never stay mad at the man who had showed him what a true family was supposed to be like.

He looked away, not because he was ashamed, but because he knew what they would see in his eyes otherwise. He did not want them to know what he felt.

"I'm fine. Just a little tired."

It was a lie, but Mr. Weasley nodded, accepting his answer as the truth. He told Harry to get some rest.

Everyone present watched Harry's retreating form before going back to their previous discussion. Only Luna felt unnerved by what had just happened.

She wondered if anyone else had noticed the slight insanity she had seen behind Harry's emerald eyes.

***

The next morning Harry woke early, refreshed and ready for life. Glancing to his right he found a still-sleeping Ron.

He dressed quietly and crept downstairs, leaving the house in favor for a walk outside under the rising sun. He could tell it was going to be a beautiful day.

He wandered aimlessly for an hour before settling under a group of trees a good distance from the house. The walk had done him wonders for his mind. He had never felt so calm.

Resting his back against the bark he closed his eyes, enjoying the enveloping sensation of peace. There were no thoughts in his mind. The only sound that reached his ears was that of the bird-song.

When the sun had reached its peak in the sky Harry stood and started walking back to the Burrow, slowly.

As expected, when he walked through the kitchen doors the room stilled. He ignored the stares and went straight to the cabinet, intent on making something to eat.

The others kept their silence until he sat at the table with his food. Luckily for him Mrs. Weasley spoke first.

"Did you sleep alright last night, Harry?"

Harry gave a slight smile, that is, until he noticed how the taut atmosphere seemed to relax once they realized he wasn't going to blow up in anger. This caused his face to fall back into his blank mask.

He answered with a quiet, "It was fine, Mrs. Weasley."

From the corner of his eye he watched Hermione eye him suspiciously and felt more than saw Bill's scrutiny from across the kitchen. God he _hated_ being stared at.

He looked up from his meal to glare at everyone present and spoke with the same coldness as the night before.

"Do you know it's rude to stare?"

He had the satisfactory of watching the others blush and look away. It was strange, how he did not feel the least bit of guilt at his harsh words, but he could not bring himself to care.

When he got up to leave he had to control his anger once more as Hermione blurted out her thoughts.

"Harry, wait. And please don't get angry! It's just, I'm worried for you. We all are. You were gone all day yesterday and again this morning when everyone woke up. I've noticed you changing since that last night of the war. Don't you deny it Harry Potter! We're losing you. Just promise me, wherever you go you won't do anything rash. I don't want to see you hurt."

Her cheeks were tinged with red by the time she had finished. The entire room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for his infamous temper to erupt.

Harry, however, surprised them all by smiling. It was not an innocent smile, but one of a darker, more sinister nature. They knew from that smile and the dangerous glint in his eyes, that this was not their Harry. Was it an imposter? Or had he really changed this much without them noticing.

Harry felt the air sing with nerves. He watched as a few of the older males stood up, watching him closely. He sneered at them.

A misty voice spoke from the corner of the room. Everyone turned to the voice.

"There are no more wrackspurts clouding his mind. You need not worry Hermione, for he has finally learned the truth behind the thestrals."

Luna smiled eerily from where she sat on the counter. The others shuddered.

Harry smiled too, an honest smile. He had finally learned how to appreciate her honesty and ability to see things clearly. She was a dear friend.

"Thank you Luna," he said sincerely.

Her eyes sparkled as she watched him, but when she spoke again her voice was gentle.

"You've taken on too many wallypurtans in your life Harry, with the tears you've shed. Too many have used you as a nargle without looking at their own strength."

Harry nodded at her solemn tone.

"But there's a little yellow bird outside, calling your name. Find him Harry Potter and hold him dear."

"I will," he promised her.

Hermione spoke from her place by the table, looking annoyed. "Oh honestly Harry, you don't need to listen to that rubbish."

Harry's anger flared.

"Shut up Hermione." He spoke in a low, warning tone.

"What's the matter with you?" Ron demanded angrily. "You're sounding as loony as, well never mind. But don't talk to Hermione that way."

Silence was his answer.

Impatient, Hermione motioned for him to sit.

"Oh never mind, let's just go over these plans. Harry you're going to Hogwarts today. We've promised McGonagall that we'd help rebuild the parts of that castle that were destroyed –"

"No," Harry interrupted firmly.

"Excuse me?" she said taking on her scolding tone.

"No," he said again. "I'm not going. Don't you think I've done enough for the war? My part is finished. I just want to be left alone."

"But –"

"No Hermione, drop it."

"Harry Potter!" Ginny snapped from her seat. "What the hell is wrong with you?" She continued, ignoring her mum's reprimand about her swearing.

"Don't do this, let us in."

Harry whipped out his wand when she moved towards him. Gasps were heard all around. Most stood, taking their wands out as well.

Ginny just looked disbelieving.

"This isn't you Harry. Something's happened, something's wrong. Please tell me!" She was close to tears.

Harry, for his part, shook his head. He had no words to comfort her as he would have done in the past. She had to realize now that he had changed and there would be no changing back.

He took a chance to glance at Luna and saw that she was humming a mournful tune.

Ginny came at him again, before he was ready. But when he opened his mouth to tell her to stop lights flashed all around.

Pain worse than the Cruciatus Curse erupted through his body, blocking out any coherent thought. He blinked as time seemed to stop.

There was nothing he could do but lie there and watch the lights begin to fade.

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Did you get Luna's message? Lol.

Review, please! Next chapter will have Harry/Draco interaction. ;)


	3. Forsaken

A/N: Thanks for the reviews!!! Here's the next chappie!

Chapter 3 – Forsaken

"Pssh, Potter. Potter!"

Harry groaned and opened his eyes. And then he blinked.

It was dark, so very dark around him. He tried to move and found that he could not. Struggling against his invisible bonds he felt panic grip at him. He whimpered.

"Calm down Potter," a voice spoke through the dark.

Relief washed through Harry when he heard that someone was there. Too lost in his onslaught of terror he didn't recognize the voice, but answered anyway.

"I can't move," he mumbled. "And I have a bloody pounding headache."

The voice just scoffed.

Harry, gradually becoming more coherent, finally recognized the voice.

"Malfoy?"

"The one and only," the blonde said. Harry could hear the smirk in his voice. For once in his life Harry was glad to have Malfoy there.

"Where am I?" He figured it was a logical question, considering he couldn't look around himself. He was surprised to feel his bed dip slightly under the other's weight.

"You're in St. Mungos."

Harry eyes drifted shut. So his 'friends' had dumped him here to be rid of him. Well that was nice of them. After a lifetime of servitude no one seemed to need him when his work was done.

Malfoy, the ever impatient one, asked that very question. And when Harry answered he couldn't keep the coldness out of his tone. "I've changed. I'm no longer a use to them. No longer their puppet." His words turned bitter.

He couldn't see Malfoy's expression but guessed it would have been surprised.

"And what are _you_ doing here Malfoy? Surely the Slytherin Prince is above a healer's treatment."

"I tried to kill myself," Malfoy answered simply. "Mother and Father thought it was best to leave me here. Get my problems out of their hair."

"Oh." Harry's brain seemed to freeze with_ that_ piece of information.

"Yeah, oh."

Deciding to change topics Harry asked why he was bound.

"You see, that was what I thought weird. Weasley's father and older sibling came in carrying you. Luckily they didn't see me. I was pretending to sleep."

Harry smirked at that.

"If you're just going to smirk stupidly at me I won't continue at all!" He sounded annoyed.

"No, please continue," Harry said calmly.

There was a pause before Malfoy began again.

"Anyway, Bill I believe his name is, told the healer to be careful around you. He said you had a temporary moment of insanity and that you were dangerous. That was why they brought you here. Said the pressure had finally gotten to you."

"They want you to talk to a mind healer," Malfoy continued in his superior tone, "so you can heal from the war and get back to the way things were."

"Yeah," Harry laughed. "Get back to the way things were. Fat chance at that!" Harry continued to laugh, a slight hysterical tone creeping into his voice.

"So it's true! You _are_ insane. I'm sorry Potter but I find that funny. Finally when there's no Dark Lord chasing you, you go completely bonkers."

"Shut up Malfoy."

"Hey, just stating the obvious."

Harry smiled at him when he realized that didn't feel the least bit of anger at Malfoy's words. In fact, the constant bickering between the two of them felt quite normal. Harry was sure he would have been bored without it.

Silence rang as they covertly enjoyed the other's company. But soon Harry's thoughts turned elsewhere.

"Do you think they'll release me tomorrow? From these bonds?" He was ashamed to hear the uncertainty in his voice, but thankfully Malfoy didn't comment. He just hummed as he thought.

"I believe so. I mean, why would they want to keep you bound? There's really no point to it."

Harry didn't answer but instead wished he had the other man's confidence. After the hell his life had turned into, nothing would surprise him anymore.

"You better get some rest, Potter. You're going to need it tomorrow."

Harry found himself readily agreeing. After all, he _was_ exhausted although he had no clue as to why. Probably because he was recently attacked by at least six different spells at once, by those he had once considered family nonetheless.

He felt the bed shift as Malfoy got off and was surprised to feel a hint of loneliness settle in his chest. He was alone and trapped in the dark. He tried to tell himself that he was being stupid and needed to get a grip, but he couldn't convince himself no matter how hard he tried.

Claustrophobia was setting in, hard. His breath began to come in quick bursts. He lost himself to the visions of his mind.

But something was anchoring him to reality. Harry realized that someone was holding his hand.

That same voice spoke from the dark, awakening him to the present once more.

"Good night, Harry," the voice whispered into the night air. A moment later quiet footsteps were heard, then the squeaks of a mattress from not so far away.

Harry felt a smile blossom on his lips. It felt foreign to him, as if he were unused to using such muscles. But he responded likewise with a barely existent, "Good night Draco," before falling instantly asleep.

***

Harry awoke to voices. They were arguing about something and Harry wished they would stop.

Squinting through the sun's rays, he saw several blurry shapes by his bedside. Unfortunately he was still bound so had no choice but to make himself heard.

"Er, excuse me?"

Surprised silence greeted his words before one of the figures approached.

"How do you feel, Harry?"

"Mr. Weasley?" Harry asked in surprise. He would recognize that gentle voice anywhere.

"Do you think I could have my glasses?" Harry continued hopefully. "And it would be nice if you took these bonds off. I don't like being bound very much."

A moment later Harry felt his glasses being adjusted over his face. He could finally gaze clearly upon Mr. Weasley's concerned face.

"Harry, you gave us quite a fright yesterday."

Harry looked rightfully ashamed. "I know Mr. Weasley," he said softly, "and I'm sorry. Really I am. It's true, I let the pressure get to me. I'm fine now though and I'm ready to go home."

He watched Mr. Weasley glance nervously over his shoulder at a stern-looking witch. She was eyeing him with mistrust and a deeply hidden loathing. Harry wondered why.

"What's wrong, Mr. Weasley?" Harry asked when the adult didn't respond.

"Well you see Harry, that's what we were just discussing before you woke. This is Healer Carmena Mulberry. She's a mind healer and thinks it best if you stay here for a few weeks –"

Harry interrupted forcefully. "Mr. Weasley, I'm fine. I promise it won't happen again."

Mr. Weasley turned to the witch. "Can we at least get those bonds off him?"

When the healer spoke Harry had to keep himself from gagging. Her voice was too high and far too sweet for comfort and she spoke as if he were a dangerous animal. It was simply _nauseating_! Harry did not like being treated like this.

"I need to ask him a few questions before he's released," the healer said. "I've seen cases like his before, where the patient's mind simply snaps. Once we lift the bonds we need to make sure he won't attack us. Better to be cautious than dead."

She smiled at Mr. Weasley, a toothy smile that twisted her face into something unrecognizable. Harry felt a chill shoot up his spine.

And then she shot off questions at him. They were constant and grating on his nerves. But he answered appropriately, albeit void of emotion, and soon he was free of his bonds.

He sat up testing his muscles and stretching his neck. He saw Draco watching from where he sat on his bed. The blonde was studying Harry as if he had never seen anything quite like him before. Harry ignored him.

Turning back to his captors, Harry asked the only thing he could. He knew he would have to stay there in that disgusting infirmary, but that was fine with him. He would play his little game and act like the sweet little boy he once was. And once they released him he would be gone for good.

"Mr. Weasley," he said as soon as he found his voice. "What exactly do mind healers do?"

He was nervous about that part. Harry realized with a sinking feeling that he would rather die than be forced to relive his past. His Occlumency lessons with Snape had only enforced that fact, and even then Harry had merely experiences flashes of his younger years.

He sat in silence, awaiting the answer that would determine his fate. But Mr. Weasley, it seemed, didn't have the answer for him. Instead the healer made herself heard. Her explanation was swift and clear, yet Harry could detect an underlying malice behind her words.

"When we conduct these one-on-one sessions Mr. Potter I will, shall we say, delve into your mind. I'll look for any memory that seems inflamed. The deeper pockets are usually the ones that never heal.

But with my knowledge I'll be able to bring forth those memories. Together we'll be able to watch them and analyze them. You must be able to express your thoughts in words and be able to describe in detail the reasons behind your actions.

That is the healing part Mr. Potter. Only once you understand everything you need to know about that particular moment in your life will you be able to heal." She ended her speech with a smirk and a cold gleam.

Harry shuddered and felt himself break out into a cold sweat. Merlin, that was not healing, it was the lowest form of torture imaginable! Far worse than a mere Crucio. Harry would take the physical pain any day if it meant keeping his mind in tact and free from invasion.

"Mr. Weasley, please!" Harry was well aware of the near panic in his voice, but simply could not control it. "Please don't make me stay. I swear I'll keep quiet the rest of the summer. I'll move out, anything, just don't make me relive my mistakes." He finished in a near whisper.

Once more the irritating healer answered for him. "Realizing your mistakes Mr. Potter is the first step to healing."

"Then I don't _want_ to heal! Ever. I'll carry my scars. I'll die if I'm forced to do this."

"I've heard about your melodramatics for some time now Mr. Potter and I can assure you–"

"I think that is quite enough." Mr. Weasley interrupted the angry healer. He gazed down at Harry, his face a mirror of misery.

"Harry, I'm sorry but I simply cannot allow you to leave when you're like this. I know you can't see it for yourself Harry, but I want what's best for you. You need to stay. You are not as fine as you say, but hopefully within a few weeks you'll be able to see the good in this and forgive me."

Harry felt his world falling apart. It seemed that _everyone_ was against him. He no longer had enemies. Now it was simply him against the world.

"Mr. Weasley –" he tried one last time, but his voice spoke defeat.

"I'm sorry Harry. I'll check on you at a later date. But for now try to relax." His face softened. "Remember, you are like a son to me. I want you to heal from your wounds."

Harry could do nothing but nod as he watched Mr. Weasley and the healer leave the room. The latter turned back to look at him with a spiteful grin before closing the door with a slam.

Isolation grew inside of him. The wizarding world suddenly seemed like a far off, unreachable place. It constantly escaped his grasp. How could he have ever been a part of something that seemed so corrupted, so _wrong_? Was this the world he fought so hard for? He had thought he fought for freedom, but instead they gave him chains.

Shaking his head to clear his mind, he mumbled, "Idiots," to himself. They really were, the lot of them. But soon he would be free enough. Soon this world would be a thing of the past.

A throat cleared behind him and he turned in surprise. He had completely forgotten about the blonde. Malfoy was watching him, his eyebrows raised.

"What do you want Malfoy?" Harry's words held no malice.

"Nothing Potter," he said casually. "You surprise me, is all. But I must say that was brilliant acting on your part."

Harry stared at him. "I don't know what you're on about."

He watched as the other boy smirked. "Oh come on Potter! I'm a Slytherin, I know how the mind works. I can see the scheming behind your eyes. Of course, I would have never expected it from the Gryffindor Golden Boy."

Harry looked away. "I told you, I've changed."

"And so you have," Malfoy replied, smiling at him. It was an honest smile for once. "And if I had just met you, I would probably say you were a Slytherin at heart. A rather good one at that."

Harry gave him a knowing smile. "So it would seem."

Harry stared at the blonde for a while longer while he pondered the situation. He as sure as hell didn't want anyone inside his mind, ever. Not only was his mind a private place, but he hadn't survived the war once only to fall from it the second time around. He had to do_ something_!

And then it clicked. Mind healers search for memories by probing the mind. But if they couldn't get into the mind in the first place, then there would be no way to treat. They would have to find a different kind of therapy, one that was less personal and far less painful.

But that would mean…and Harry wasn't sure-

No, it had to be done. He knew there would be no turning back now. With silent resolve, Harry looked into Malfoy's silver eyes, a devious smile playing on his lips, and asked one simple question.

"How well do you know Occlumency?"

* * *

Review, please!

Next chapter: Harry and Draco get, ahem, closer... ;)


	4. Pale

A/N: Warnings apply to this chapter!!!

Chapter 4 - Pale

Harry stormed into the room he shared with Draco after his first mind healing session. He was a mess, a complete disaster. He collapsed on his bed, feeling like porcelain. One more minute of standing and he was sure he would have fallen and wept until his tears were dry.

The memory that horrid woman had chosen for today just happened to be the one of Sirius' death. Over and over he had to watch his godfather fall through the veil. Time and again he had to stare at the frozen look of shock on his face before falling to his death.

'What were you feeling at that moment, Mr. Potter?' 'If you could have, would you have gone in with him?' 'How do you feel now that he's gone, knowing it was your fault he was there in the first place?' The mad woman had shot question after question at him, never giving him a moment of rest. It had continued for an hour and a half before she had dismissed him for the day. Harry was near his breaking point.

Lying on his stomach, head in between his arms, he felt his bed shift. He groaned at the movement.

"God Potter, you look terrible."

"Bugger off Malfoy and let me die."

Malfoy gave a humph. "Perhaps I was wrong. Maybe you aren't as Slytherin as I had originally thought."

That comment sent him over the edge. With a roar Harry lunged at the blonde. They both went tumbling onto the floor with a loud thump.

"Take it back Malfoy!" Harry screamed as he aimed a punch at the other's head. Malfoy flipped them over, pinning Harry's hands behind his back while Harry continued to struggle beneath him.

"Geeze Potter, calm down! I didn't know you'd be so offended. After all, you _are_ a Gryffindor. I thought you didn't like the Snakes."

Harry suddenly went limp in his hold. Draco saw a few tears making their way down his face, but decided not to bring them to attention.

Silence rang before the blonde actually noticed the position they were in. He was practically laying on Harry's back, his face close to the other's neck, his body in between the other's legs. Draco blushed, thankful that Harry couldn't see his face.

Harry began to talk, his words absent of any emotion. Draco felt himself shiver at the tone.

"I _am_ a Slytherin by heart Draco. I never told anyone, but the Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin. 'You would be great, you know. It's all here in your head and Slytherin would help you on your way to greatness'."

Draco listened, eyes wide at the sudden confession.

"But I asked it to put me somewhere, anywhere else. I foolishly thought I had to live up to my name. I was so new to the magical community that I took the first opportunity presented to me: I became Ron's friend. He seemed so nice. The first friend I ever had.

But I see now, if I had let the Sorting Hat place me where it wanted, Voldemort would have still been alive. And right now I'm not sure if that would have been such a bad thing. For one, I wouldn't have felt so used, so broken."

Draco roughly turned him over so Harry could look straight into his eyes. "Potter, you are not broken. Look,"

He helped Harry into a sitting position, pointing to the other occupants of the room.

"_They_ are broken. That one no longer has a mind. He lies there day in and day out, staring at nothing in particular. He has no thoughts anymore. The healers deemed him irreparable.

And the other one, he's been put into an enchanted sleep. They say they're trying to find the cure, but he's been like that for years!"

Draco looked back at Harry's wide eyes.

"So you see Potter," his voice dropping to a whisper, "you are not broken. You still have your thoughts, your mind. You've simply broken free from what was expected of you. This is the real you now. Don't let it go."

Draco nearly yelped in surprise when Harry turned and burrowed into his side. Not in a million years would Draco have expected anything like this. Their position felt rather intimate to him. He felt his cheeks burn.

"Thank you Malfoy." Harry's words were muffled, but Draco smiled anyway. After a moment of indecision, Draco relaxed and brought Harry into an even tighter embrace.

Exhaustion suddenly swept over the blonde. But before allowing himself to drift into a restful sleep, he whispered his thoughts into the still evening air.

"I thought I hated you, you know. But now I'm not so sure."

***

A few weeks passed and Harry found himself getting closer to Draco. It was nice, having someone by his side as he drifted away from everyone else. Or rather, as everyone else drifted away from him.

Draco was not like the others. He did not tiptoe around Harry waiting for him to yell, nor did he speak with awe or blatantly hate him. With him, all seemed normal and well.

Not to mention he was a good Occlumency teacher. They had no wands since the others deemed them dangerous with their current states of mind, but they made due with what they had. Within these last few weeks Harry had learned to meditate.

And that was what he was currently doing. Draco had taught him how to enter a calm state of mind, one where he had no thoughts. Harry felt his own presence, but nothing else existed in his dark world. At last he had rid himself of his past.

And because he shed his thoughts, he had inadvertently, strengthened his shields. How could one read his mind when there was nothing there to read? It was a brilliant, not to mention Slytherin, technique. Harry was just sorry Professor Snape hadn't thought of it.

Arms suddenly wrapped around him from behind. Harry shivered when he felt Draco's breath in his ear.

"You missed supper."

Harry turned, smiling at the blonde.

"Thanks Draco," Harry said when he saw a tray full of his favorites. Harry took the tray and placed it in between them so they could both enjoy the food.

They sat for a while, before Draco struck up the conversation. "So I've been thinking-"

"Really," Harry interrupted with a smirk. Draco glared at him.

"No Potter, I was just trying to figure out why that healer woman is so nasty to you. I mean, from the moment she laid eyes on you it seemed like she detested your very presence. I could tell, I was there."

Harry had actually been wondering the same thing for a while now, but figured it had to do with his status as Boy Savior. He thought she might have been for Voldemort, but he couldn't be sure.

Draco interrupted his thoughts. "Do you have any leads?"

Harry shook his head at him. "No, not yet. But if I find anything out I'll let you know."

Just as Draco was about to respond, the door opened. Draco's parents walked in, looking proper and very out of place against the blank walls of the infirmary.

Harry saw a ghost of shock flicker across their faces before they covered it. Clearly they had not expected him.

As they glided over to the bed Harry nodded to each one in turn. "Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy," he said politely.

Lucius responded with a Potter while Narcissa merely nodded with tight lips. They turned to Draco, who was looking at them eagerly.

"Mother, Father, have you come to take me home?"

Harry felt a pang inside of him at the thought of Draco leaving. He knew it was selfish of him, but he would miss the other man, a lot.

"No Draco, we merely wished to give you news."

"Oh."

Seeing the disappointment in his eyes, Harry felt a bit guilty over choosing his happiness over Draco's. Lucius glanced at him before turning back to his son.

"Hogwarts is reopening," he said bluntly. Harry perked up at this. Of course Hermione had mentioned that they were rebuilding the ruined parts but he hadn't given it much thought. He had been rather preoccupied with his current situation in the mental ward.

"I see," Draco said slowly. "But Father, how does that concern me? Last year was supposed to be my seventh year. Even if it does reopen I'll be far too old to attend."

"Draco, will you listen?" Lucius said, perturbed.

Draco immediately deflated. "Sorry Father."

Lucius nodded and Harry felt his anger swell. How dare Draco's father treat him like that! Draco was supposed to be family, but they treated him no better than a servant. He was filth to their eyes, as far as Harry was concerned. He had to hold his tongue from commenting.

"McGonagall's still Headmistress," Lucius continued as if nothing was wrong. "And she made it clear that everyone's required to repeat their year due to the lack of proper education the previous year. You are going back to Hogwarts. There is no question about it."

Draco seemed hesitant to say anything, but decided to ask in the end.

"Father, the world sees me as a traitor. I'm not sure going back will be the best idea."

Lucius glared down at his son. "You will do as I say Draco. Malfoy's do not lose their pride. You will go back to that school and hold your head high. Do not appear weak in front of your enemies. Give them something to fear."

Draco hid his nerves from his father. But the truth was he was as scared as hell. He would be on his own from the moment he stepped foot into the castle and knew there would be constant danger coming his way. How could there not be with him considered both Death Eater and traitor.

He swallowed and asked his father the one question he had to know.

"And until then?"

Lucius stared down at him without commenting. Harry could see the debate behind his cold eyes until, finally, he sighed.

"You will remain here," he answered. His words were final.

Draco turned away, but not before Harry saw the pain of rejection behind his silver eyes. Harry felt Draco's pain as clearly as if it were his own. After all, he had felt these feelings before. So many times before. Perhaps he and Draco were not so different after all.

Another moment of silence passed before Narcissa moved to sit beside her son. She sat stiffly, but was there for him nonetheless. Lucius brought up another matter at hand.

"Furthermore, nominations are being held as we speak. Within the next several months there will be a new Minister of Magic-"

"What happened to Kingsley?" Harry blurted before he could stop himself. He watched as all three Slytherin's tensed at his words. But surprisingly, Lucius answered his question.

"Minister Shacklebolt had only taken the position as temporary, until things had settled down. He's willing to resign and leave the world to an unclear fate because he loves being an auror more." Lucius spoke with a curl to his lips. Clearly he was not happy about the candidates.

No one knew what to say after that. After several more moments with parents and son, the Malfoy's left, leaving Draco behind.

***

"Come on, Mr. Potter. You have to admit that Cedric Diggory's death was your fault, just like that godfather of yours."

Harry blinked at the image before his eyes: the graveyard. He panted as he tried to wrap shields around his mind. It was a pointless effort. The mind-healer was exceptionally forceful today. She got glee from seeing his pain.

_Come, the niceties must be observed. Dumbledore would like you to show your manners. Bow to death, Harry. I said bow!_

Harry whimpered. "No."

"Come now, Mr. Potter."

"No!" He screamed at the top of his lungs and found himself staring at an angry face.

"Oh you shouldn't have done that, Mr. Potter. It'll only make it worse in the long run. Denial is such a powerful thing." The mind-healer tisked at him.

Sweat was pouring down Harry's face as he stared in horror at her.

"You're mad!" he cried. "It's not me, it's the world. Everyone's gone crazy!" He nearly choked on his words. "Why do you hate me so?"

Healer Mulberry stared at him as a vicious smirk crossed her face.

"Hate you, Mr. Potter? Why would I hate you?" she said pleasantly. "But I cannot deny that you need help, after so many 'episodes'. You cannot deny this. You _need_ me."

Harry shook his head, far past words at this point. He was drowning in agony and knew no one would help him out. He was the savior, not the other way around. No one would _ever _save him.

"Please," he pleaded as the healer plunged into his mind one more time. This time his vision swam until he was in the hospital wing, in Mrs. Weasley's embrace. The Tournament was over, Voldemort was resurrected. The world seemed to be crumbling around him. Events were spinning out of his control.

Minister Fudge stormed in, demanding that Harry was a liar. He declared Harry's 'funny turns' to public ears and doubted his sanity in front of his friends.

_The boy can talk to snakes, Dumbledore! You still think he's trustworthy?_

Suddenly it clicked in Harry's mind. The shock of his realization gave him unexpected strength to throw her from his mind.

He stared at her angry glare before questioning his thoughts. He needed to confirm that he was right.

"Do you know Cornelius Fudge, Healer Mulberry?"

She appeared angrier than usual, her normally gleeful eyes fierce.

"I knew him Mr. Potter. Knew being the key word."

"He's dead!" Harry asked, shocked. Granted he hadn't heard anything about the man for some time now, but to learn that he had died was a matter altogether different.

"Yes," the healer spoke through clenched teeth. "He was my cousin. A very close cousin in fact. You could say we grew up together, practically as brother and sister."

Harry closed his eyes hearing his heart pound in his ears. No wonder she had this bitterness towards him, this deep down hatred.

"How?" he asked softly, watching her closely.

She looked away from his penetrating gaze. "Murder," was all she said for some time. Then she shook herself and continued her explanation. "He was murdered by You-Know-Who during the raid on the Ministry. They played with him before ending his life. You-Know-Who _thanked _him for denying his return all those years ago.

One of the aurors escaped and told Cornelius' direct family what happened. We decided to keep it secret. After all, who would be sorry he died? He had been discredited, put to shame. Many would be glad he was out of the way."

Harry put his head in his hands as he contemplated the seriousness of the situation. He understood now, the healer blamed him for her cousin's death. Harry, along with Dumbledore, had proven that Fudge's denial had cost the Wizarding World many lives. His loss in rank had also cost him his life.

Harry looked at the healer with pity in his eyes. When he spoke his words were soft and filled with understanding.

"Even though the Minister and I didn't see eye to eye, I never wished his death. I only wished that he would see reason."

She scoffed.

Harry looked away, choosing his next words carefully.

"He was a good man. He cared, I know he did. But he cared a little too much about everyone's happiness.

If there was a way to turn back time, I would. Everyone has lost so many dear to them. I wish with all my heart that I could change their fate. But we cannot place the blame where it does not belong. There was only one person responsible for all the madness in the world. We need to remember that. And while everyone was struggling to survive we forgot what was truly important."

His eyes met hers.

"An open mind as well as an open heart. Minister Fudge loved deeply, so deeply in fact that he could not see clearly. He wanted to stay in his position so he could protect his people. By doing so he also put them at risk.

But he will be remembered, I can promise you that. He may not be remembered as a great leader, but he cannot be labeled as terrible either. Only those with an innate cruelty can be called that."

His speech finished, he waited for the words to sink in. After what seemed like an eternity, the healer gave a curt nod. And for the first time since they met there was no anger exchanged between them.

Harry only hoped his mind healing sessions would be less harsh now.

***

"Where are you going?"

Draco stopped dead in his tracks and turned back to Harry with questioning eyes. It had been a few days since the incident with the mind-healer and Harry had found a much more pleasant experience with his sessions. She delved into his mind gently now, allowing him to control the turn of his thoughts. And though no words were spoken about their 'talk', Harry could see the appreciation behind her eyes.

But the progressively easier treatments led to fewer nightmares, and fewer nightmares led to Draco leaving his side during the night.

Previously, they had come to some unspoken agreement that each would comfort the other if their dreams took a turn for the worse. And somehow, they found themselves waking together each and every day. Harry found himself reluctant to let that go.

"Please, Draco," he whispered to the pale boy. "I need you."

Draco came closer to Harry's bed, leaning against it as he voiced his thoughts.

"But Harry, there's really no need anymore. You haven't had a nightmare for the last few nights now."

Harry blushed. "But I want you beside me. I feel…safe when you're near," he admitted with reluctance.

Draco nodded and crawled into the bed without further protest when Harry folded the covers back for him.

"I feel safe with you too. But it still doesn't make any sense. By all means we should hate each other."

Harry gazed into his silver eyes, a soft smile gracing his lips.

"I think it's because we're both in the same situation now. We've been used and abandoned. We're all each other has."

He looked away, ashamed that what he said was true.

An easy silence rang between the two before Draco shifted his position. His arm supported his weight while he looked down at Harry with a troubled expression.

"You're not going back to Hogwarts, are you?" It was a statement, not a question. There was a pregnant pause before Harry answered with a no.

"When I get out of here I'm leaving the Wizarding World for good. I'm never coming back." Desperate eyes turned to Draco. "I don't belong here anymore."

Draco stared into Harry's eyes wishing he could take away the pain. Instead he lay down, turning his back to the other and gazed off blankly into the darkness.

_You belong._

***

"Harry!"

Harry turned when a familiar voice called his name, only to have his vision filled with bushy brown hair. He found himself held in the tight embrace of Hermione Granger. She released him a moment later and stepped back beside Ron. They both stared at him with happy smiles.

"We've missed you mate," Ron said and Harry found himself smiling despite himself.

"How do you feel, Harry?" Mr. Weasley asked, coming to a stop behind Ron and Hermione.

"I'm okay, Mr. Weasley. It's been a while since you dropped me off here. I've adjusted."

"That's good to hear. We've all been truly worried about you." Harry nodded, tightly. Somehow he doubted that.

"Have you just come to visit then?" he asked.

"Actually mate, we came to tell you, the mind-healer owled us this morning. She said you've been making excellent progress and her work is done. We're taking you home tomorrow."

Harry's breath caught in his throat. "What?"

"Harry," Hermione said seriously. "You're going back to the Burrow tomorrow. Surely you want to leave this place?"

Harry ran a hand through his hair and glanced behind him at Draco. The blonde was paler than Harry had ever seen him. Draco refused to meet his eyes.

Ron followed Harry's gaze and tensed. "Is that Malfoy?" he questioned angrily. "What's the ferret doing here?"

Hermione put a hand on Ron's arm as she, too, gazed at Draco with interest. Draco glared at them both, but refrained from commenting.

"I'm sorry mate, if I had known _he_ was here I would have gotten you out of this place sooner. It must have been hell, sharing a room and all." Ron shivered at the thought.

"Ron, please don't." Harry didn't want any fighting. He wasn't in the mood.

Ron nodded, but kept his eyes narrowed on the blonde.

Mr. Weasley took that moment of silence to tell Harry to pack his things and meet them in the lobby the next morning. Harry agreed, feeling something ache inside of him.

It seemed his plan of escaping the Wizarding World was coming far sooner than he had expected. Once again he felt as if events were spinning out of his grasp. He knew he should have been happy at the thought of leaving, but he found himself reluctant instead.

Harry forced himself to act happy the rest of the visit.

***

That night, Draco looked at Harry before getting into bed with him. They faced each other in silence, fearing that they'd lose control of their emotions if they spoke out loud.

When the silence became too unbearable, Harry voiced the thoughts plaguing his mind.

"I don't want to leave."

Draco smiled sadly at him. "I don't want you to leave either."

The dark wasn't oppressive this night, for a full moon lit the air with its silvery glow. Its luminosity made Draco's pale skin and eyes catch fire. He looked otherworldly.

Before Harry could comprehend what he was doing, his lips were on the blonde's. A moan escaped him at their sweet taste. Harry deepened his kiss when he felt Draco kiss him back just as hard.

"Harry," Draco whimpered when they broke apart for air. His whimper all but set Harry on the other man again. He ripped Draco's nightshirt off to gain more access to the silky skin underneath. He felt his erection harden.

Harry gave a surprised start when Draco flipped him over, successfully banishing his shirt in the process as well. The blonde lay on top of him, kissing him without reserve.

Harry tilted his head back to give Draco more access to his neck. The kisses were violent and dizzying. Harry couldn't hold back a groan when Draco reached his chest.

They clung to each other like drowning men, for they knew this night would change everything they had ever held dear. In the morning they would part their ways and create a new life from the ashes, but Harry never wanted this night to end.

"Draco," he gasped when the other began sucking his nipple in earnest. Draco used his tongue to swirl around the tit, sending shockwaves of pleasure down to Harry's groin.

Harry bent his neck to the blonde's hair, inhaling deeply. "I want you."

Draco stopped what he was doing to look Harry in the eye. His own eyes were full of desire and need. In fact, Harry could literally feel the love coming off him in waves.

There had always been such intensity between them, such passion. Their past hatred had transformed into something much, much more. It had become the fiercest love either had ever known.

Draco hesitated. "Harry, are you sure?"

Harry put a little distance between them, gazing lovingly into Draco's eyes with deeply-rooted longing.

"Draco, please. This is my last night with you, and this is my wish."

Draco nodded as he rid Harry his pants and stroked the hardened member. Draco felt his own pants being gently pulled down.

"I'm going to prepare you," he whispered huskily to Harry. Harry gave him one more kiss before allowing the blonde to insert his fingers into him.

The first one came gently and Harry moaned at the sensation. He had never experienced pleasure like this! God it was heavenly. Harry found himself relaxing in the other's arms.

The second finger came soon after, and then the third. Harry hissed in both pleasure and pain.

But soon the sensation was lost, only to be replaced with a burning heat. Draco's cock inserted itself in Harry's entrance and Harry had to grab the blonde like his life depended on it.

"Fuck Draco!"

Draco held the position, letting Harry adjust. They stared at each other with burning eyes until Harry whispered for him to move.

They moved in a hypnotic rhythm, their bodies working together in perfect harmony. It was like they were _made_ for each other.

They lost themselves to the world of sensations. The heat was overwhelming, the moaning bittersweet.

Harry kissed Draco's neck, lingering on the sensitive spots while Draco continued to stroke Harry's cock. With each shove Draco moved deeper inside of him making Harry cry out and hold him even closer with need.

All too soon Harry's muscles clamped down, making Draco come inside of him. Harry, who had already been near his orgasm, came soon after. The pure ecstasy of the experience left them dazed.

They lay there in each other's arms, panting and flushed, too exhausted to move. For the first time in their life both of them felt loved, truly loved.

They wished tomorrow would never come, that they could stay like that forever, but knew it was impossible. Once the sun's rays hit the horizon, the world would be forever changed to their eyes. Neither knew what Fate had in store for them, but they knew one thing for sure. They would remember this night for the rest of their lives.

Before giving in to sleep, Draco whispered into Harry's ear.

"Happy Birthday, Harry."


End file.
